


Fly Me to the Moon, Let Me Play Among the Stars

by supercalvin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Astronauts, BAMF Merlin, Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship, Serious Injuries, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalvin/pseuds/supercalvin
Summary: Arthur knew it was Merlin’s dream to be an astronaut, and every single day was a dream come true, but sometimes it was still hard for Arthur to grasp. Why did he need to do this? Of all the dreams to have, that idiot just had to pick one of the most dangerous in the world? Scratch that. In the solar system. He may look like a lanky geek of a scientist but that man had a daredevil streak in him the size of Jupiter.





	Fly Me to the Moon, Let Me Play Among the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative Title: The Most Self Indulgent Fic Ever Because I Love Angst And I'm Trying To Jumpstart My Writing Again

 

Every day Merlin woke up to a song sent in by a friend or family member. It was a tradition started by the astronauts of the ISS, when it still had only been 400 cubic meters, and was now part of every astronaut’s daily routine. Now Merlin woke up from his regulated sleep to the sound of a song by that sounded like spoons clapping together and rhythmic chanting. He smiled, knowing exactly who had chosen today’s song.

“Mate, I don’t know why you let your friend send in these songs,” Merlin heard over the comms as he unzipped himself from his wall-bound sleeping bag. “I hesitate to call it a song.”

“It’s pretty awful, isn’t it?” Merlin smiled. Arthur hated this ‘music’ as much as Merlin, but he loved annoying Merlin far more than he hated any song.

“I can hear you smiling from a million kilometers away,” The technician laughed, “You’re a twisted bastard, Emrys.”

“Thanks, Anderson,” Emrys said as he pushed himself from one side of his capsule to the other so he could float over to the loo. 

“Seriously, you want me to turn it off?” Anderson asked. “Your friend would never know.”

“Don’t you dare,” Merlin said. The sounds coming from the speakers above the control panel may sound like someone dropped a kitchen cabinet full of silverware, but it reminded him of Arthur. The arse had made probably this song out of soundbites on his laptop. Knowing him, he probably had another hundred songs planned for Merlin’s 300-day journey back home. It had only been two months since he left Mars and he was already anxious to get back to Earth. Partially so he could finish the work that he had started on Mars, but mostly to see Arthur. Always, to see Arthur.

_ ‘What are you doing!’ Arthur squawked and slammed the laptop shut. Merlin had just barely moved his hands away in time to avoid bruised knuckles. _

_ ‘Hey!’ Merlin tried to sound scolding, but he knew he was smiling up at Arthur. _

_ ‘You weren’t supposed to see that, you snoop,’ Arthur glared. _

_ ‘You have a list for me.’ Merlin grinned, a wash of warmth settling over him at the realization. _

_ ‘Of course I do. What kind of husband do you take me for?’ Arthur rolled his eyes and picked up the laptop, which had dozens and dozens of songs labeled ‘Merlin’s Wake Up Music.’ Arthur had always sent him music when he was on a mission, but he hadn’t known that Arthur had planned the music so methodically. _

_ ‘They’re all horrible,’ Merlin said gleefully. _

_ ‘Well, I can’t have you enjoying yourself, now can I? You could go and fuck a Martian and leave me behind with a Dear John note. A little pavlovian conditioning in the morning will surely make you want to come back home.’  _

Merlin had laughed so hard he didn’t remember what he or Arthur had said next. All he knew was that Arthur had personally picked out this song, and wherever he was on Earth, no matter what time or what he was doing, he was also listening to this song. As Merlin floated over to his control panel to start his day, Merlin hummed, even if there didn’t appear to be any kind of melody to speak of.

***

Merlin was scheduled for a two year mission: about a year’s travel to Mars, a month on the Mars’ colony, followed by another year’s travel back to Earth. Of course Arthur understood that it wasn’t like a long car ride for Merlin. He would be running dozens of experiments on his capsule, which he had affectionately named Aithusa. (A ridiculous name, but at least it wasn’t like their cat, Kilgharrah). Although this was Merlin’s mission first single-person Mars flight lead by the International Space Exploration Coalition, it was his third time in space.

Arthur knew it was Merlin’s dream to be an astronaut, and every single day was a dream come true, but sometimes it was still hard for Arthur to grasp. Why did he  _ need  _ to do this? Of all the dreams to have, that idiot just had to pick one of the most dangerous in the world? Scratch that. In the solar system. He may look like a lanky geek of a scientist but that man had a daredevil streak in him the size of Jupiter.

When Arthur had met Merlin, he had been the head medical researcher at Camelot’s research institute. At the time, if either of them had been asked pick who had the more dangerous job, both of them probably would have said Arthur’s job as an attorney. Though Merlin would have probably pointed out that microorganisms could be far more deadly than any of the criminals Arthur saw in court. That probably would have led to Arthur rolling his eyes and calling Merlin a know-it-all, which about summed up their early friendship. 

But then their friendship had melted into something more. Secretly at first, because Arthur had needed to be careful about revealing his sexuality to his father, who had been his boss at the time. For years, Merlin had been his ‘roommate,’ though their spare bedroom had long been converted to their personal gym. Then, a few years later, ISEC had come calling, asking about the brilliant Dr. Emrys. So Merlin had wanted to keep their relationship under wraps at his work too. Because, as he explained to Arthur, he wanted this job more than anything he had ever wanted in a career. They both knew even the slightest ‘issue’ in Merlin’s background would get him kicked off the project. The last thing they needed was media coverage of a gay genius-turned-astronaut and his boyfriend, the nonprofit attorney who was the son of The Uther Pendragon.

But they made it work. By the time Merlin had been assigned a spot on the upcoming ISS team, Merlin and Arthur had been together for over two years. That first mission had been a challenge for them, in more than one way. 

To get into the program, Merlin had been preparing and training for what felt like ages. It ate up their entire lives. Between Merlin’s pilot lessons, the endurance training, and the health-food Merlin insisted on eating, there wasn’t a lot of room to focus on anything else. But Merlin was so, so happy. He had always told Arthur that being an astronaut, was his dream, and that one day he wanted to go to the colony ISEC has established on Mars. 

And Arthur…? Well to put it mildly, he was a wreck. At this point, trips to the ISS were simple routine for astronauts. Except Arthur knew the dangers, and all the statistics regarding failed launches and crashing on reentry. Not to mention the thin, thin walls of the ISS that would be keeping Merlin from the infinite vacuum of space.

As the days ticked by and Merlin’s first launch date loomed closer and closer, Arthur couldn’t help the worry that gnawed at him constantly. Arthur tried to focus on work. Merlin was caught up in preparations and Arthur wanted to give him the space to focus, while also giving Arthur the opportunities to have his quiet little meltdowns behind closed doors. He hadn’t thought Merlin had noticed the distant Arthur had put between them, but as always, Merlin was far more perceptive than Arthur had ever given him credit for.

_ ‘Are you going to sleep tonight? Or are you going to lay like that all night?’ _

_ Arthur startled out of his daze. He hadn’t known Merlin had woken up from his typically deep sleep. He had been working so hard that he usually crashed after date-night. Arthur hadn’t gone to sleep. Instead he had turned away from Merlin and face the wall, watching disaster after disaster play out, as if a horror film had been projected onto it. _

_ ‘I’m trying to fall asleep, no thanks to you.’ Arthur huffed, wrapping the sheets further around his rounded shoulders. He refused to turn around to see Merlin, whose emotions were always so clearly read on his features. Arthur didn’t want to see the sadness or disappointment in them. _

_ ‘It’s four in the morning, love.’ _

_ Arthur looked up to his alarm clock to see that Merlin was right. God, had he really been staring at the wall for five hours now?  _

_ ‘Arthur…’ _

_ Arthur felt Merlin’s hand run over his back, which was as tense as a bowstring. Neither of them said what was on both their minds. It had been the same thing for the few months, ever since Merlin had been officially declared a part of the ISS team. Routine, Arthur kept telling himself. It would be a routine flight. _

_ ‘Arthur, it’ll be okay,’ Merlin whispered. Obviously Arthur hadn’t concealed his worry as well as he had thought. Or maybe he was foolish to even think his boyfriend of over two years wouldn’t have been able to read him like an open book. _

_ ‘Don’t,’ Arthur said, trying to decide if he wanted to lean into the touch or move away. _

_ ‘I’m sorry,’ Merlin whispered. _

_ ‘Don’t fucking apologize,’ Arthur moved away, sitting up and swinging his feet off the bed. He felt Merlin shift closer to him, taking up the spot he had vacated in their bed. ‘God, don’t act like this is your fault. Don’t act like it’s okay for me to...to do this.’ _

_ Merlin was still touching his back. His palm gentle on Arthur’s hunched shoulders.  _

_ ‘You know I don’t want to make you feel this way…’ _

_ This way, Arthur’s mind sneered at the words. What Merlin meant was terrified. Anxious. Guilty. So very guilty, that he would even think for a second that he wanted Merlin to give up his dream. Just because Arthur was scared.  _

_ ‘I don’t want you to go,’ Arthur whispered, feeling his throat close up as he confessed. He hunched over so that his face in his hands. He felt the shame wash over him as he admitted, ‘I want you to go, I do, but I also know that I would give anything to keep you from going.’ _

_ Arthur felt the tears fall just as he felt Merlin slide behind him. Merlin wrapped his body around Arthur’s, his arms encircling his waist and his face pressing against to Arthur’s shoulder. His kisses were gentle as he pressed them into Arthur’s shoulders, but his arms were firm, holding Arthur against his chest. _

_ ‘Oh, love, I know,” Merlin pressed the words into Arthur’s shoulders, his voice soft and too considerate for what Arthur had just confessed. ‘I understand. I understand.’ _

_ ‘Don’t, Merlin’ Arthur whispered, pleading for Merlin to yell at him. Fight him, and tell him that he shouldn’t want Merlin to give up his dreams. _

_ ‘You have never asked me to drop the mission. You’ve never asked me to stay. You’ve been so supportive, and Arthur...you have no idea how much that means to me when I know it scares you. I’m just sorry this isn’t easier on you,’ Merlin said, tugging Arthur closer to him, trying to open him up to Merlin’s embrace. _

_ After a moment, Arthur fell back into Merlin’s arms, sinking into it and allowing Merlin to comfort him. Merlin hushed him as he held on tight to his boyfriend. He hadn’t gotten much sleep for the past month, and he wanted to blame the tears that fell from his eyes on the exhaustion, but he knew better. All the while he couldn’t help thinking that even though he was strung out, he shouldn’t be the one who needed comfort. Arthur was supposed to be there for Merlin on this life-changing experience. He was surely nervous about the mission, and yet Arthur was the one being held right now. _

_ ‘I don’t know what I would do without you,’ Arthur whispered, his face pressed against Merlin’s. His cheek was rough with stubble. Soon it would be time for him to get up and head to the base. ‘I can’t imagine my life without you.’ _

_ ‘You won’t have to,’ Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur’s jaw. ‘I’ll be yours until we’re both ancient rocking-chair-addicted fools.’ _

_ Arthur huffed out a laugh and curled further into Merlin’s arms. _

_ ‘I might hold you to that promise, Emrys.’ _

_ ‘Make it a vow,’ Merlin whispered. _

_ Arthur closed his eyes, feeling the dread and joy fill him in equal measure.  _

_ ‘Yes,’ Arthur said, although there hadn’t exactly been a question, but Merlin knew what he meant. He always did. _

By the time Merlin was preparing for this third trip into space, that conversation had felt like a lifetime ago. They had married in the year after Merlin’s first flight. They had kept it small, with only a dozen friends and family present. Only a few of Merlin’s colleagues, who he trusted completely, knew about his relationship with Arthur, but otherwise the general public was still unaware of their relationship. Besides, astronauts weren’t like celebrities like they had been in the twentieth century. It was just another job, though a very elite and dangerous one. That still didn’t mean Merlin wouldn’t make headlines if he gave them anything to talk about, scientific or otherwise.

They had been married for five years, together for almost eight. They had been through a lot in that time. There had been the little things. They adopted a tabby cat, who Merlin had named Kilgharrah for some godforsaken reason. They had moved into a larger apartment, after years of saving. Then there had been the big things. They had ridden out the storm that had been Arthur’s father when he had discovered Arthur’s secret marriage and the following legal disaster with Arthur’s inheritance. They had made it through two of Merlin’s space flights, each over a hundred days in length.

By the time Merlin was preparing for mission number three, it almost felt like old hat. 

Almost.

Arthur was still a dreadful pile of anxiety the closer Merlin’s launch date came. But he had learned to cope with it, and Merlin had learned how to help him with it.  The biggest difference about this trip was that Merlin would be gone for longer and travel farther than he had ever before. In those two years it would be their tenth anniversary and their seventh wedding anniversary, and Merlin would be in space, literally millions of kilometers away from Arthur.  At least army spouses had leave, Arthur had thought bitterly. Merlin couldn’t exactly pop back home for a weekend or suprise Arthur with a quick visit.

Saying goodbye, although Arthur had had to do it two times before, had still been hard.

_ On the night before Merlin’s launch, Arthur had driven him to the secluded ISEC base, even if it meant a two hour drive home. It meant an extra few hours with Merlin, and he was going to squeeze as much time as he could. Besides, Merlin hadn’t protested when Arthur had insisted. _

_ Arthur turned off the car engine and walked Merlin into the ISEC building. Arthur knew he could only go so far into the building before they turned him back, but he also knew he could make it to the lift doors without anyone caring. That’s where he had said goodbye to Merlin on his last two missions. _

_ Lance was waiting for them when they turned the corridor to see the lift doors. Lance was one of the few scientists at ISEC who knew about Merlin and Arthur’s relationship and had become one of their closest friends. _

_ “Hey, Arthur,” Lance greeted, before turning to Merlin, “Ready to go?” _

_ Merlin nodded, “Give us a moment?” _

_ Lance nodded, “I’ll be over there.” Then Lance proceeded to walk as far away from the lift as he could and pretended to be completely engrossed in his phone. Arthur wanted to laugh and tell Lance that it was alright. Arthur had given Merlin his real goodbye when they were back home. _

_ Merlin tilted Arthur’s head away from Lance and kissed him deeply. _

_ “See you in a bit?” Merlin said between breathy kisses. _

_ “Seven hundred and thirty days. I’ve my calendar marked,” Arthur whispered, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s cheek and taking in every inch of him. His hair was cut short, making him look ridiculous and young with his ears sticking out. In two years it would be long again, Arthur thought.  _

_ “It’ll be over before you know it,” Merlin’s smile was genuine, but it was faltering. Arthur wasn’t a fool. Merlin may love these flights, and Mars might have been his ultimate dream, but Arthur knew Merlin would be homesick. He would miss his mum and his friends. And his lovely husband, of course. _

_ “I’ll be here when you come back,” Arthur promised, squeezing his hand. _

_ “Where else would you be?” Merlin joked. _

_ “Don’t know. Thought I might pop over to Saturn for a bit.” _

_ Merlin’s tears, none of which had actually fallen, disappeared as he laughed.  _

_ “I love you,” Merlin kissed him, mostly laughing into it. _

_ “I love you, too” Arthur, squeezed him close one last time, feeling Merlin’s arms around his shoulders and those narrow hips pressed into his own. _

_ He turned to Lance, “Alright, mate. He’s ready to go. Take him now before I drag him back home.” _

_ Lance smiled at them, looking like he had heard everything they had said, despite pretending not to.  _

_ Merlin gave him one last kiss and then he stepped onto the lift with Lance. The doors closed and Arthur was alone. _

***

Lance walked into Mission Control with two mugs of coffee.

“Ma’am,” Lance said as he handed Annis her large travel mug of coffee. Black, no cream, no sugar. 

“Thank you, duLac,” Annis said, only looking away from the mission board for a moment. He didn’t blame her. Merlin’s capsule was a little less than two months away from reentry. Everyone was a mixture of nerves and excitement, but none more than Annis. This was her big project. She had hand-picked Merlin and everyone else on the team. She had been in the control room managing her team every day since Merlin’s launch. There were rotating shifts, and Annis had other priorities as the Director of Exploration at ISEC, but Annis never failed to show up to Mission Control for at least an hour every day in the last twenty two months.

‘If Emrys doesn’t get a break, than neither do we,’ Annis reminded everyone regularly. Lance wasn’t one to argue with her. This two year mission was a team effort, and Lance was happy to help in any way he could. He would have liked to be an astronaut too, but unlike Merlin, he could never pass the pilot’s tests with his bad eyes. 

Lance pushed up his glasses, taking his seat at his desk, and started his regular diagnostic check on Aithusa.

About an hour into Lance’s shift, the radar technician flagged down Annis. “Ma’am, there appears to be some debris in Emrys’ path.”

Lance looked to Annis, who was frowning at the numbers in front of her.

“Contact Emrys.”

Before anyone could move, there was a beep, a call sign, and Merlin was on the line.

“Emrys to mission control.” Merlin said, “I think I may have an issue in a minute.”

“There is a field of debris right in front of you,” Annis replied, “See if you can divert your path by hand. Troyes, send him a new flight path.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work, ma’am.” Merlin’s voice said, followed by some static. There was a sound that Lance had never heard before.

“Emrys, you’re breaking up. Status report.”

“It’s coming now whether I like it or not. Engaging emergency maneuvers-” there was a loud sound, which sounded, terrifyingly, like metal bending.

“That could have gone better,” Merlin’s voice came over the comm speakers, glaringly calm for the topic at hand. The radar on the mission board showed dozens of unidentified debris of unknown sizes, all completely surrounding the capsule. 

“Status report, Emrys,” Annis barked.

Merlin started to give his report, but before he could finish he was cut off again and the entire control room was met with what sounded like an aluminium can being crushed. The visual made Lance’s stomach roil.

“Status, Emrys!” Annis shouted.

Merlin’s voice cut through the loud creaking, “Damage to Aithusa’s front and side. Solar panels might be down. I also banged my head really hard on the control panel, if anyone is wondering.” Merlin’s light tone seeped tension into the room as emergency lights across the mission board flashed violently.

Voices all across the room quickly related the damage.

“-lost solar panel connection to the main circuits. He’s running on the engine fuel-”

“-body suit is ready injuries to the chest, accelerated heart rate-”

“-pressure is steady, but there is an air leak somewhere in the lower cabin-”

Even amongst the din of the panicked ground team, Merlin repeated what his own sensors were reading. Or, more horrifyingly, not reading. Lance watched in horror as one of his closest friends spoke with the ground team to summarize all the damage. He didn’t even seem to blink at his injuries or at the obvious emergency at hand.

Then more static cut him off.

“Emrys, repeat,” The communication technician said, “We do not copy. Repeat.”

“-another wave. Hold tight-”

There was an ungodly screech and a pop that made Lance’s ears ring.

Everyone in the control room was silent, listening in horror to what was surely a fatal disaster. Merlin grunted and there was heavy breathing interspersed with loud metal banging. Lance wanted to cover his ears but if Merlin said anything, he needed to hear it.

Then there was silence, but Lance could still hear Merlin breathing through the comms speakers.

Annis, though she looked pale, barked into her headset, “Report, Emrys.”

“Mission Control,” Lance let out a huge breath as he heard Merlin’s voice over the comms. “I would really appreciate a status update on Aithusa.”

Someone rattled off numbers quickly, and Merlin quickly responded with what he was seeing on board.

Lance only had the numbers in front of him, but one thing was very clear: it wasn’t good.

Merlin said, “The debris has passed. Or rather, I’ve passed through the debris. I think it took some of me with it.” 

He broke up again, and the comms technician, who looked a little jumpy, “Repeat. We do not copy.”

“I said, ‘Ow’” Merlin said with a little laugh.  “Copy?”

“Copy, Captain Emrys,” The technician looked scolded and turned to the doctor who was watching Emrys’ body suit. Lance wasn’t a physician, but the red blinking lights on the man’s screen didn’t look good.

“We’re working on a fix, Emrys. Hang in there,” Annis said, and tore off her headset and snapped at the scientists who were standing dumbstruck and idle behind her. “Get on it. Now!”

They scattered like startled deer, and Lance almost felt bad for them, expect he knew exactly how Annis was feeling at the moment.

Thirty minutes passed as Emrys discussed the best way to fix his craft with the scientists on the ground. He had patched the air leak for now, though Lance wasn’t sure how long duct tape would hold. Now he was clearing out one of Aithusa’s smaller compartments and planning to detach it by the end of the hour in order to conserve fuel.

Patch after patch was discussed and tossed out as they tried to fix Merlin’s ship. All the while, Lance could see that Merlin’s body suit was reading several injuries. If Merlin was in pain, he never let it show. He kept very calm and professional, as if his life wasn’t on the line. The only slip up was after he detached part of the capsule, which had never been part of the plan. Merlin had cleared everything out of the chamber that he would need, but he didn’t know what detaching it would do to the rest of the capsule. But no one had argued when he had said it was the only way to lighten the load.

“Oxygen levels are dropping.”

“Main air pressure is dropping.”

“Fuel gage is showing that we’re using more fuel than before.”

Merlin snapped, his voice loud in the crazed control room. “Everyone stop talking for a goddamn second! I fucking know I’m losing pressure.”

There was a pop and a curse from Merlin as he did something. Thirty seconds ticked by, feeling like an hour, as Merlin worked on stabilizing his only source of air.

“Oxygen is rigged up, as best I can. Fuel is stable for now,” Merlin sighed, “How’s my solar panels looking?”

“Damaged, but they will still give you some power. About thirty percent.”

“I’ll keep them then,” Merlin said with a sigh. His voice was ragged, the first sign of any distress Merlin had shown so far. “Mission Control, is Lance there?”

Lance stood up before he even thought about it. He leaned over the comms technicians shoulder, clicking the button to allow him to talk with Merlin.

“I’m here, Merlin.”

“I’ve a message,” Merlin said, and Lance’s heart stuttered in his chest. He knew what that meant. “Avalon. Lance, copy that? Avalon.”

“Copy that, Merlin. Avalon.”

There was a heavy breath, followed by a shaky, “Thank you, Lance.”

“Avalon?” The technician asked Lance.

“Keep working,” Lance said, ignoring the looks he was getting from across the control center. “I need to make a phone call.” He looked up, catching the eye of Leon. He nodded and followed Lance out of the room.

When they were down the hall and away from prying ears, Leon asked, “What are you going to do?”

“We have to tell him,” Lance didn’t clarifying who.

“Should we wait to see if anything else happens?”

Lance winced. He knew that what Leon meant was to see if Merlin would make it even another hour. They had fixed what they could for now, but it wasn’t like Merlin was only a day’s trip from Earth. He was still thirty million kilometers away from Earth. Even if Merlin’s life-support systems were working now, would they last for another sixty days? Would they last for another hour? At this point, it was completely unpredictable. Now Lance was met with a decision. Should he call Arthur now, to let him know Merlin was dying, or later, to let him know Merlin was dead? Which was worse? 

“God, I wish I didn’t have to do this,” Lance pulled out his phone, feeling his fingers shake as he tapped on Arthur’s number.

***

“Hey, Lance,” Arthur answered his phone, leaning it against his shoulder as he packed up his suitcase. Almost everyone had gone home at his office. He had stayed late, a bad habit he had picked up in the last twenty two months of Merlin being gone. He hated going home to an empty apartment. If he didn’t stay at work late, he often popped over to visit Morgana or Hunith.

“Arthur,” Lance’s voice was barely there.

“Lance?” Arthur put down his folders and frowned at the poor connection. “Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Arthur. Are you at work?”

“Just leaving, why?” Arthur’s heart started to race as an odd feeling crept into his stomach. There was something off about Lance’s voice.

“Arthur...” 

Arthur suddenly realized it wasn’t the connection, it was Lance’s voice that was weak on the other end.

“Lance, what’s happened?” Arthur started to pace, wanting to run out the building, to do anything but just sit in his office. “What’s wrong? Is Merlin alright?”

“For now,” Lance said, and Arthur might have felt Lance’s flinch at his own words even over the phone, if they hadn’t felt like he had been punched in the gut. He felt lightheaded.

“Oh god.”

“There’s been an accident,” Lance said, “He passed through an asteroid field and it banged up Aithusa.”

“Oh god,” Arthur looked down at his computer’s screensaver. Merlin was lying back against a blanket on a grassy hill, his eyes completely closed with a wide grin across his lips. Arthur had taken the photo on their last trip to the mountains outside of Camelot. 

Arthur wanted to drop to the floor, to shake, to scream, but instead he paced. “That’s all you know? What else is there? Is he alright?”

“We’ve fixed as much of the damage as we could but that was all we could do. He hasn’t said anything, but it sounded rough. I’m sorry.” Lance said, there was a long pause and Arthur hadn’t a clue what to say, his mind processing everything while filling in everything Lance wasn’t telling him.

“Arthur…” Lance said again. “Merlin gave me a message for you.”

Arthur stopped pacing, his blood roaring in his ears. “What was it?”

He said, “He said, ‘Avalon.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

Arthur closed his eyes, dropping his phone to his chest as he tried to keep himself steady.

When Merlin was in space, they only had minimal contact. Arthur was allowed to send in songs and to talk with Merlin every few weeks, but otherwise, it was radio silence. Even when they did have a conversation, it was impossible to have any privacy when Merlin was monitored at all times. So they had developed dozens of codewords so they could talk somewhat freely. At this point it was almost like a language all on its own. 

January meant I love you. They had first kissed on New Years Eve, and it had always been their mark for their anniversary. Kilgharrah meant Merlin was annoyed with someone at work. Usually whoever was monitoring the call at the moment. When he actually meant their irritable tabby cat, he called him Killi. Royalty meant Arthur’s father, who still caused issues every now and again.  Magic meant their love life, and Arthur still laughed at all the barely cloaked euphemisms that Merlin had made up with that one. 

They also had emergency words, because even if neither of them had wanted to talk about the worst case scenario, they had needed to consider it. Cavall was for issues that were big enough that they needed to be contacted, but were easily fixed. Arthur’s unexpected knee surgery after a football accident last year had been a Cavall level emergency. They had never had need for anything higher than that, but they had two more levels of emergency words. Dragon was for mild emergencies and Avalon was the last stage of emergencies. 

But Avalon meant something else entirely. 

Avalon meant, ‘I’m not sure I’ll make it home.’ 

Avalon meant ‘If I don’t make it, I will always love you.’

So the accident was far worse than even Lance understood. Merlin was the bravest man Arthur had ever met, and in times of crisis Merlin never batted an eye. He always pushed forward and carried on, putting away his own fear if it meant consoling the fear of his team. But he had sent a message to Arthur because even if Merlin concealed his own fears from his team, he would never leave without saying goodbye to Arthur.

“Arthur?” Lance’s voice came through the haze that was Arthur’s mind. “Arthur, are you okay?”

“No,” Arthur said into the phone. “No, I’m really not.” Arthur violently wiped the tears from his cheeks and took in a deep breath. “If you can...If there’s a chance to tell him...Tell him, January. Please tell him January, a very fucking lot.”

“Okay,” Lance whispered, obviously know what that word meant. “Okay, I will.”

There was a short pause, and Lance said, “I will keep you posted, Arthur. Is there someone there who can…?”

No, Arthur thought. The only person who could take care of Arthur right at this moment was somewhere in space with an undisclosed amount of injuries.

“I’ll call my sister,” Arthur promised.

“Good, let her pick you up. I have to go, but if I can, I will give Merlin your message,” Lance said, followed by, “He’ll be okay, Arthur.”

“He’ll be okay,” Arthur repeated, even if it felt like a lie. “Thank you for letting me know, Lance.”

“Of course,” Lance said, “Bye, Arthur.”

The next few hours were a blur. He called Morgana and tried not to cry as Morgana tiptoed around him like she never would if things weren’t this bad. He drove to Hunith, even though it was getting close to nine o’clock at night, with an oddly quiet Morgana in the passenger. 

Lance texted him every half hour, and Morgana read them to him as he drove. Even though Lance rarely had any news to report, usually just saying ‘stable, ’Arthur could barely listen to them without feeling sick.

Two hours later Lance had said that he had given Merlin the message and he had repeated it. 

Three hours later Lance said Merlin had rigged up a new flight plan, whatever the hell that meant. Arthur hadn’t a clue if that was good or bad, and the not-knowing was killing him more than anything else. 

Five hours later Lance said that Merlin had severed all communication, against mission control’s advice and Annis’ orders, stating that he was turning off all unneeded functions in order to conserve fuel.

That was the last they had heard from him.

***

As soon as Merlin turned off the communications, he closed his eyes and zipped himself into his sleeping bag. He focused on his body instead of the loud creaking of his capsule. He breathed through his nose for five seconds and exhaled through his mouth for seven. His ribs were hurting like hell and there wasn’t a single good position to relieve the pain when he was floating in zero-gravity. He was fairly certain he had broken a few bones in his left hand when he had flown across the main cabin, but that didn’t hurt as bad as the burns he had sustained when he had reattached the lines to the main capsule. Not to mention the headache that was the size of Mars itself. He wanted to vomit, but the last thing he needed was losing any kind of nutrients. He had to sit here and rest. Or at least try.

Aithusa was continuing along towards Earth at her regular speed. Merlin still need to do the calculations to see if he had enough fuel, between his tanks and the solar panels, but he needed ten minutes rest. He could barely think with the roaring of blood in his ears. And the last thing he needed was his bruised ribs turning into broken ribs and puncturing his lungs.

When his ears had stopped ringing, he unzipped himself and found his medical kit. He wrapped his ribs and hand, as best he could. It would be a pain to lose some of the function in one hand, but it would be far worse if the breaks worsened and he lost the use of his entire hand. There wasn’t much he could do about the concussion, but he kept the pain relievers close at hand.

As he worked through everything, he didn’t have time to think about anything besides getting home. He calculated his speed, how far he was from Earth, and how much fuel he would need between the life-support and the engines. He calculated how much food he had, in case it would take longer than planned. He noted his injuries, very aware that if not treated they would fester and only hinder his progress more.

All the while, even as he told himself not to think about it, his mind kept drifting to home. To Arthur.

Merlin had laughed when he had heard the comms technician argue with Lance, “We’re trying to work- Hey- You can’t just-”

Lance’s voice had come through a moment later, “Merlin, I have a return message. He said, and I quote, ‘January. January a fucking lot.’”

Merlin had laughed even as tears sprung to his eyes, “Copy that, Lance. January.”

“Right,” The technician’s voice had come through again, “Now back to the pressure readings…”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he looked down to his hand-written calculations. Sixty days, Merlin told himself. He could make it sixty days. He would have to.

***

Although the team at mission control didn’t have contact with Merlin, they did have a read on his vessel. He was travelling a little slower than normal, and everyone agreed it was probably due to the need to conserve fuel and to utilize as much of the solar panel energy as possible. 

Merlin’s body suit had been taken off sometime in the week preceding the accident. Lance had told Arthur that the doctor in charge of Merlin’s health had had a bit of fit when that had happened. Arthur didn’t blame him. But they were certain Merlin was still alive on board because his ship kept shifting course as if navigated by hand. 

Lance didn’t say that the need to conserve fuel was dire, but Arthur had put it together, between the lack of comms, body suit, and system navigation. Even though that sounded like Merlin was turning off everything he needed, it was the only thing that comforted Arthur. Because even if it meant a rocky road ahead, it meant that Merlin was desperately trying everything to get home.

Most of the time Arthur pretended that Merlin’s capsule was moving forward as planned and that nothing had happened. But it was hard to lie to yourself. Most nights Arthur woke up in a cold sweat. There were always fringes of nightmares still prominent in his mind as he fell out of bed and ran into the bathroom to vomit into the toilet or to stand under the shower, trying to warm up his body from body-wracking shivers.

Sometimes the dreams were filled with fire and smoke. Other times there was nothing but silence and cold. But every once and a while the dreams would be misleadingly soft. He would turn over in bed to see Merlin lying beside him, but when Arthur would reach out to touch him, Merlin would slip away as if he had never been there at all.

One night in the midst of a nightmare, right when Arthur’s hand reached out to touch Merlin’s fading face, Arthur woke up to the sound of his phone. 

Lance’s name was across the screen with a long message. Arthur unlocked his phone to read the paragraph Lance had typed out.

“Good news, we think Merlin’s sent us a message. In morse code, believe it or not. Must not cost any fuel through the mission board. Poor Anderson was confused by the numbers he was getting. We think he sent ‘29 SN SKED. CONDX GUD. XOXO.’  Which we figured means he is scheduled for reentry in 29 days and his condition is good. I’m fairly certain the XOXO is for you, otherwise Merlin thinks he’s being funny. Sorry if I woke you.”

Arthur smiled and held the phone to his chest as he let more tears fall from his eyes. Sometimes it felt like he hadn’t stopped crying ever since Lance had given him the news, but the for the first time in over a month, they were tears of hope. Of joy.

Arthur laughed to himself, saying out loud, “Merlin, you cheeky bastard.”

***

Merlin was cold and his body ached like it had never had before. He had shut down almost all of Aithusa’s systems, except the vital life support systems, which meant he didn’t have any of his equipment running. No communication. Minimal heating. Minimal air. All fuel that wasn’t going towards those systems was going towards the engines propelling him towards Earth.

In the last twenty-two months, he had never been bored while up here. Even if he missed home or if he was frustrated with an experiment, he was at least never bored. Now there was nothing to do besides wait. Most of his experiments were over since he had detached part of the capsule that had been his lab. He had saved all of the samples and data he had collected, but the last two months of his scheduled experiments were impossible without his equipment. The only other thing he could do was keep moving. He knew that his bones and muscles would atrophy if he didn’t use them, but between his bruised ribs, the concussion, and the lack of electricity to his exercise equipment, that entertainment was impossible too. Now, when he wasn’t calculating by hand his homeward trajectory, he was floating in his sleeping bag to stay warm.

About a week in he realized that if he didn’t give himself something to do, that the sheer boredom would kill him before space did. So he flipped over a couple pages on his notebook and started to write. He wasn’t good at writing, but he wasn’t trying to impress anyone with these notes. Every day he told himself that he would write about something different, even if it was just for ten minutes.

At first he wrote down a journal of how things were going, but when that turned into a slippery slope of all the things that could go wrong, he started to write other things. 

He wrote about his work. How he wanted to use the samples he had collected on Mars to do this experiment or that research. He write that he hoped that even if he didn’t make the reentry into Earth’s atmosphere, that at least his work wouldn’t be destroyed. He wrote that it had been two years of hard work and he wasn’t about to let that go to waste.

He wrote about his experience on the Mars’ colony. He described Dr. Nemeth’s work on growing plants to increase oxygen production. He wrote about how she could be very serious but had a lovely smile. He remembered how she seemed to know every Greek myth about Mars, and could site all the constellations from heart.  

He wrote about his childhood. How his best friend had died when he was only seventeen and how that had changed Merlin’s life. Will had always wanted Merlin to leave Ealdor, telling Merlin that he was too smart for the little town and that he should be on big adventures somewhere else. He wrote that he hoped Will, wherever he was, knew how big of an adventure Merlin had gone on.

He wrote about Arthur. How he met the attorney who worked for Uther Pendragon, a man known to take on cases with little moral standing as long as it was an assured win. How he learned that Arthur wasn’t anything like his father, and he tried to help the people he represented. How Arthur had been secretly looking for a position as a nonprofit lawyer. He even tried to sketch Arthur, but he had never been much of an artist and ended but just drawing silly cartoons and stick figures. 

He wrote about falling in love with Arthur. How he was rough on the outside, but on the inside he was the softest person Merlin had ever met. How he cared for Merlin in every way he could. How much Merlin loved him in return. How much he missed him. He wrote that he even missed Arthur’s god awful spoon-clanging music. He wondered what Arthur was doing at this moment. He wrote that Arthur’s sister was probably doing a horrible job of comforting his poor husband at the moment, but that Arthur was probably comforting Merlin’s mother with that kind heart that Merlin knew so well. 

Weeks later, when his fuel was dwindling down and Earth was coming closer into Merlin’s view, the notebook was entirely filed.

***

Lance’s heart almost popped out of his chest when he heard the sound of the communication board being hailed, followed by Merlin’s call sign. It was twenty days since Merlin’s message, and they had been waiting for another message as Merlin’s timeline counted down. They hadn’t thought Merlin would contact them via the comms system again.

The comms technician scrabbled for the microphone, which he hadn’t needed for over two months now.

“Aithusa to mission control, can you read me?” Merlin said, sounding tired but not in emergency-mode.

“Copy that, Emrys this is mission control, we hear you loud and clear. It’s good to hear from you.”

“Likewise, mission control,” Merlin said, and Lance could hear his smile, “I have my coordinates for you. Think you can calculate my entry angle from here?”

“I think we can manage, Captain.”

“Thank you.”

To say that they were all surprised that Merlin’s capsule was hurtling towards Earth faster than anticipated would be an understatement. It was a good thing, but it also meant that Merlin’s calculations hadn’t been precise.

“Maybe I caught a tailwind,” Merlin joked. No one laughed. Merlin gave his numbers, and everyone got to work like they hadn’t needed to since Merlin’s accident.

“I saved as much fuel as I could so I could for reentry.” Merlin said, “How much time do I have?”

“You’re approaching Earth in about fifty hours.”

Merlin was silent, and Lance wondered what the calculations he was running looked like. 

“Okay,” Merlin’s voice didn’t betray any sign that it was good or bad. “I’m shutting off again.”

Bad, Lance thought. If he needed to conserve fuel for only two days, it was bad.

“See you in while.”

Then there was static.

***

Arthur was with Hunith when Lance texted him, letting him know they had started the countdown to Merlin’s reentry. It would be in the next ten minutes. The text from Lance would be the last. After Merlin hit the atmosphere, there would be no knowing his status, even from mission control.

Arthur handed Hunith a cup of tea, which he was certain she wouldn’t drink. He didn’t blame her, he wasn’t going to drink the cup he had made for himself, but it at least gave them something to do while they waited.

They were sitting in her little sitting room, as they had come to do more and more over the past two years, with the news on the television. Neither were truly paying attention to it. The media didn’t know the details of Merlin’s mission, besides the fact that there had been a major malfunction and the astronaut on board had made minimal contact with Earth ever since. But they did know that Merlin’s capsule was scheduled to land this week because ISEC had sent out a notice to all naval vessels in the ISEC alliance to be prepared for Search and Rescue. Merlin’s initial plan to land at a base had been canceled as soon as the accident had occurred. His capsule wasn’t made for a water landing like the early space capsules had been so it was essential that Merlin was found as soon as he splashed down, or else the last sixty days of survival would mean nothing.

An hour passed. Their tea had gone cold and Arthur could see Hunith’s hands beginning to shake. Merlin was so much like her. Kind, stubborn, and she would never let you see her falter. Arthur reached out and took her hand, just like he would have Merlin’s.

Another half hour passed, and Arthur’s phone rang. He didn’t even let it hit the second ring before answering it.

Arthur opened his mouth to ask, but Lance was already speaking.

“Atlantic. He’s in the Atlantic. The HMS Elizabeth found him and they’re treating him now. He’s fine. He’s alive.”

“He’s alive,” Arthur repeated, and Hunith shuddered next to him. “He’s alive.”

He must have said something to Lance, but all he remembers is holding Hunith as she shook in his arms.

***

Gwaine Greene was the HMS Elizabeth’s Surgeon Lieutenant on duty when the news came in that they were the closest vessel to the crashed astronaut. 

To say that Dr. Merlin Emrys was a legend would be an understatement. Even if you didn’t know anything about the ISEC, you knew about Emrys. After two years of travelling alone  in space and after what was rumored to be a near-fatal accident, Emrys was a household name. 

The pressure to save Emrys would be enormous. Gwaine had suddenly been thrust into the limelight, so to speak, when the HMS Elizabeth’s Search and Rescue team came across the floating capsule. As the orders came down that Gwaine and his team would be the ones treating Emrys, they started to prepare for all possibilities. It was hard to say what they needed. Gwaine was used to military injuries, not interplanetary injuries. He prepared the operating room and ensured there was O Neg ready for transplant. He even prepared the hyperbaric chamber that they used in case of the bends for the scuba diving teams. He wasn’t at all trained to treat an astronaut but he would be damned if he didn’t prepare for anything and everything.

When Search and Rescue’s helicopter landed, Gwaine was ready. Standing on the deck of the aircraft carrier, Gwaine watched as the soldiers lifted a gurney out of the cabin and quickly moved it towards him.

“What’s his status?” Gwaine asked the medic, even as he looked down at Emrys. From just an initial look, it was clear he was bruised and exhausted.

“He was conscious when we found him, but he passed out on the way here. He was very calm and professional- asked that we save his capsule before he even asked about himself. Another team was on it before we left with him. He said he had some broken fingers, bruised ribs, and a concussion. And to quote him ‘probably a motherfucking grade 3 concussion too, because there are two of you right now.’”

Gwaine winced.

The medic continued, “His heart rate is all over the place and I think he has a fever. I’d be shocked if there wasn’t internal bleeding.”

Gwaine nodded, not taking time to say anything else as he took over pushing the gurney into the lift which would bring them down to med-bay. Eylan followed, keeping his fingers on Emrys’ neck and counting the seconds.

They had only been in the lift for a few moments when the man’s eyes flew open and a noise escaped him that sounded like a surprised yelp. Then he jolted like he was about to jump out of bed. Gwaine put an arm across his chest, as gentle as he could while also keeping him from moving.

The man stopped and fell back onto the gurney. Gwaine wasn’t sure if that was from his injuries weakening him or if Earth’s gravity was just hitting him.

“Good afternoon, Captain Emrys. Welcome to Earth.”

Emrys’ eyes were wide and his body was trembling all over. Gwaine wouldn’t be surprised if he went into shock in a matter of seconds. Either way, Gwaine kept his voice calm but firm.

“I’m Gwaine and this is my mate, Eylan. You’re on the HMS Elizabeth. You’re safe. We’re going to take care of you.”

The information seemed to seep in slowly. That concussion was probably as bad as Emrys had thought. But eventually he did seem to understand and nodded, swallowing heavily.

“Can you tell me about your condition?”

Gwaine could see the pain crease Ermys’ face as he said, “I think I broke my ribs on the way down. Smashed my head against the control panel a few times. Left hand’s seen better days. Ah-” He choked and Gwaine could tell he was trying not to vomit. That would be the grade three concussion, Gwaine thought. He didn’t vomit, which was a good sign. Or maybe he just had nothing else left in his stomach, which Gwaine wouldn’t blame him for. 

“Otherwise, I’m fine. How are you?”

Gwaine couldn’t help but laugh. The man had humor. That was good.

“Me? I’m brilliant. I’m saving a world-famous astronaut. I’ll have my face in the papers tomorrow.”

Emrys huffed, his eyes mostly closed, “Happy to help.”

“You’re going to be alright,” Gwaine soothed as the lift doors opened and he pushed him down the med-bay halls. Another surgeon arrived with an IV.  “Anything you need to let me know before Eylan gives you the happy juice?”

Emrys smiled again, squinting up at Gwaine. “Tell my husband,” The gurney jostled him and he winced as the breath knocked out of him. “That his pavlovian conditioning worked,” He was breathing heavily again and weakly added, “Fuck, that man’s going to kill me.”

Gwaine was puzzled, but the thought ‘he’s married?’ and ‘to a man?’ were blurred as it became clear that Emrys was passing out.

“I’ll let him know,” Gwaine said, not mentioning that he hadn’t a clue who to relay the message to, and that he probably shouldn’t be spreading the news around that Emrys was secretly married. 

Then Emrys passed out.

***

Arthur had been told that after a rushed surgery on board the HMS Elizabeth, Merlin was being transferred to ISEC’s hospital. Lance had told him that the list of injuries were extensive, but even when he was told them, it was hard for Arthur to take in. He heard the words even if they didn’t comprehend until later. Broken ribs, punctured lung, grade three concussion, second-degree burns, broken fingers, and overall exhaustion. Not to mention, Lance explained, that the sixty days without exercise in zero-gravity had caused bone and muscle atrophy that would cause long term health issues. He might be dealing with this for the rest of his life.

But none of that mattered.  All Arthur processed from that information was that Merlin was alive and none of his injuries were fatal. He would live, and that was all that mattered.

He arrived at the hospital only an hour after Lance told him that Merlin had safely arrived. He knew that getting passed the ISEC security would be tricky, but he wasn’t about to sit in Merlin and his apartment, waiting around while he knew Merlin was only fifty miles away. Not when he had been over fifty million miles away for so long.

Arthur drove up to the security booth outside the main entrance to ISEC.

“Badge?” The security guard asked, eyeing Arthur dubiously. Arthur probably looked a bit mad, and the guard couldn’t have been unaware of Emrys’ arrival only an hour before.

Instead of answering, Arthur slapped down the folder that he had brought with him, which contained an absurd amount of legal documents, even for a lawyer. Inside was a plethora of evidence, including but not limited to Arthur’s driver’s license and passport,  _ Merlin’s  _ passport and driver’s license, and the original copies of their civil union papers.

When the security guard opened the folder, he looked at Arthur with wide eyes.

“I’d like to see my husband, please.” Arthur said calmly.

If only his father, who had accused Arthur of ‘not being dramatic enough to be a homosexual,’ could see him now.

“Uh. One moment,” The security guard said as he leaned in to talk into his walkie talkie. “Er, I have a,” He looked down at papers in front of him, “Mr. Arthur Pendragon here. He, uh, says that he’s here to see his husband?”

Arthur tilted his head, “Is Percival on duty? He knows me.”

They went back and forth for a minute before the phone in the guard’s booth began to ring. 

The guard answered, “Hello? Uh, yes, he’s right here.” 

The guard looked at Arthur, “It’s for you.”

Arthur reached out and took the corded landline from the guard, “Hello?”

There was a sigh, followed by Annis’ weary voice, “You couldn’t have just called me?”

“There wasn’t any time to argue. I’m seeing Merlin whether you like it or not,” Arthur said, knowing that Annis would have told him to come back when Merlin had been cleared. “Are you going to let me in?”

She sighed heavily, but Arthur could tell that she had relented. “Hand me back to, Mr. Morris, please.”

Arthur did, and the guard looked confused, but he did open the gates for Arthur, after handing back Arthur’s considerable stack of legal documents.

“Sorry about that. Thank you,” Arthur said before driving into the parking lot, doing the worst parking job he had ever done, and running into the main unit with his papers under his arm and Merlin’s favorite sweatshirt under the other.

He was greeted by Percival, who must have been called from his post when Arthur mention his name at the security booth. Before Arthur could ask, the man raised his hand and said, “Follow me.”

Arthur followed, and it wasn’t until he was at the lift doors that he realized he was standing where he had last seen Merlin before his flight, two years ago. He was just thinking that he had never gone past this point, when Percival led him down the adjacent hall and up a flight of stairs. They entered a hall that smelled strongly of antiseptic and Percival led him to a grouping of chairs.

“I’ll let Dr. Lake know that you’re here and she’ll let you know what’s happening, okay?”

Arthur nodded. Percival left before Arthur could ask anything else. He set down his things in a nearby chair but he couldn’t sit. He paced. He checked the time. He paced. He checked his messages. He paced.

“You must be Mr. Pendragon.”

A woman in scrubs appeared and Arthur jumped in surprise, breathing out, “Merlin?” before he could articulate any thoughts.

“Sleeping soundly,” Dr. Lake assured, “We would like to let him rest as much as possible. We are going to run another set of tests when he wakes, but I know you must be anxious to see him.”

“Can I see him?”

She nodded and without another word, led him down the hallway to a large room with a window that overlooked the launch pad. In the bed, bruised and pale, was Merlin. He had oxygen in his nose, an IV in his arm, and he looked exhausted, but he was alive and that was all Arthur needed to see. It wasn’t exactly the perfect reunion he had been hoping for, but at this point he could not have cared less.

Arthur stepped into the room, immediately dropping his things to the floor and sinking to his knees, as he took Merlin’s hand in his own.

“Hi,” Arthur said despite knowing that Merlin was in a drug-induced sleep and couldn’t hear him. Merlin’s hand was freezing, so he held it between both his and softly breathed warm air, rubbing his hands back and forth gently. Merlin didn’t stir. Arthur felt the tears come to his eyes as he covered Merlin with his sweatshirt, which probably smelled more like Arthur than Merlin at this point. Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s wrist, “Welcome home, love.”

Arthur didn’t notice when Dr. Lake quietly slipped out.

***

Merlin woke up to a bright light shining in his face. 

“Dr. Emrys? Can you hear me?”

Merlin blinked a couple times, trying to focus on the face in front of him. After a moment, he recognized Nimueh Lake, the head of ISEC’s medical unit. He slowly remembered that he had been scheduled to transfer from the HMS Elizabeth to ISEC.

“Pupils are dialating, that’s a good start. Dr. Emrys, can you follow the light for me?” 

Merlin slowly followed the light, feeling sluggish and tired, but not altogether unaware of his surroundings. 

“Can you spell your name for me?”

Merlin did, though his throat feeling like he hadn’t had any water in days.

Nimueh nodded approvingly, “Do you know where you are?”

“ISEC.”

“Good. Do you know why?”

“Crashed my fucking spaceship,” Merlin mumbled and frowned up at Nimueh. She smiled at him, which was a first. Dazedly, Merlin registered that someone else in the room had laughed and he turned to see a figure sitting in the chair next to his bed.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s eyes watered before his mind even registered why.

Arthur smiled, his eyes soft and his voice barely above a whisper. “Hi, Merlin.” He took Merlin’s hand in his own and pressed a kiss to his wrist, like he always used to. Merlin remembered a thousand different times Arthur had taken in his hand in his own and pressed his lips to Merlin’s wrists. It had been so long since he had felt Arthur do that.

“Hi,” Merlin sniffled, “Hi.”

Arthur leaned over and pressed a kiss to Merlin’s cheek, right on the corner of his lips. He was so warm, and he smelled like his cologne, which flooded Merlin’s senses and triggered a million different happy memories.

“Dr. Lake has a few more tests to run, but I’ll be right here when you’re done, okay?” Arthur whispered, his deep blue eyes steady on Merlin’s.

“Where else would you be?” Merlin smiled when he saw Arthur’s eyes light up as he remembered their last conversation.

“I’ll always be here, Merlin,” Arthur whispered and pressed another kiss to Merlin’s brow.

After that, everything else fell into place. He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that angsty, whumpy mess of a fic. I've always loved 'will they make it home???' stories, because I live for that angst, but I've never been able to write it before. I just decided to write this out of nowhere and I got it out in less than three days, which is unusually quick for me. 
> 
> Anyways, please leave a comment- I'd love to know what you think! I'm also really close to finishing another fic that I've been writing on-and-off for the last year (it's completely indulgent and admittedly A LOT of pure pwp. Not sorry. Keep an eye out for it!)


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